Assorted Kuroshitsuji Ficlets
by Begger4mcgregor
Summary: Ficlets of every shape and size, done for prompts or just general silliness.  Ratings and pairings vary.  Mostly humor, with a sprinkling of who knows what else...
1. All Soul's Day

**All Soul's Day**  
_Info: This was done for the prompt "Graveyard" and is the first ficlet I ever wrote.  
Genre: Drama?  
Characters: Sebastian and Ciel. Ciel's POV  
Rating: G  
Summary: Ciel and Sebastian reflect on the human condition_

* * *

The autumn air sends a shiver down my spine as I make my way along the winding path, pulling my inverness tighter around my frame. The sky has recently let up from it's futile attempt at rain, and now the air hangs heavy, thick and grey. A constant shadow follows me, echoing my steps, Sebastian. We are silent as we walk, the only noise is the carpet of red and orange leafs crumbling beneath our feet as we reach our destination.

Empty Stone Angel's eyes stare up at me. I fail to see how these things are supposed to be a comfort. They look trapped, forever lamenting their fate as the guardians of empty shells of men. The man in question is Vincent Phantomhive. Rachel Phantomhive lies beside him, dust and bones and dirt. I stare back at the frozen angels, reaching for some feeling I know should be there. Sadness, loss, grief, longing? No, it is tradition, society, duty... guilt that brings me here this All Souls Day.

At this late hour most have returned to the warmth and comfort of their homes, but a few mourners remain. I see them groveling on hands and knees, praying that God will grant their loved ones entry if they pour enough holy water over stone. I fiddle with the small glass vial in my pocket, nearly laughing at the absurdity of it all. My shadow seems to mirror my amusement.

"I am surprised you still partake in this ritual, I did not figure you the sentimental type young master." Sebastian smirks and raises an eyebrow in silent question.

Why _do_ I keep coming? Who's to know if I stop? Surely not my parents. They are nothing more than earth now, solid and silent beneath my feet. I would say that it is expected of me, but I tell no one of these visits every November 2nd. So _why_?

"It's simply what one does."

"I see." His lips turn upward ever so slightly. He thinks me foolish. A defense rises up, then dies in my throat. If I am honest with myself, I agree with him.

Ignoring his silent mockery, I take out my own holy water, intent to buy my parents tickets to heaven once again and leave this dreary place. I notice a slight twitch from Sebastian, almost imperceivable if I didn't spend so much time with the man. Now it is my turn to smirk.

"What's wrong Sebastian? Would you like to pour the water this year?"

His eyes narrow in annoyance, "I shouldn't want to take such an important task from you young master."

"It's no trouble. It's only water you know." I can barely keep the mockery from my voice, watching his discomfort.

"That is where you are mistaken my Lord." His eyes take a cold seriousness to them.

"You can't be serious?" comes my incredulous reply. "This was "blessed" by an ordinary man, merely _calling_ himself an instrument of God."

"That may be so. However, I am bound by the beliefs of man. Do they not say: There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so?" He finishes, a soft smile once again upon his features.

"Fascinating... so if I ordered you to drink this..." I glance sidelong at him, watching for his reaction to my taunting.

"...I would be rather irritated, I do admit." He replies, ever smiling, never reaching those crimson eyes of his.

"Not to worry Sebastian, I will spare you the trouble." A light chuckle manages to escape my lips as I quickly splash the stones before me. "Well that business is finished, let's go home."

I turn on my heel and begin the journey to the waiting carriage. However, the familiar echo of footsteps is curiously absent. Sebastian is still in front of the graves, watching a nearby mourner, seemingly lost in thought. I march back, intent on asking what he finds so fascinating as to stop him from following me. Before I can question his odd behavior however, he has a question for me instead.

"Why do you suppose humans make all this fuss? As if their words and water can change the dead's fate..." He looks at me with an air of genuine curiosity.

I glance at the figure kneeling in the dirt and lightly scoff. Why indeed? "It's the human condition I suppose, to wonder where we will end up, to think we have a say..."

His eyebrow raises slightly, "You act as if you are above the _human condition_, as you put it, young master."

It is a question, though he does not ask it as such. "I suppose I am, in a way. After all, I _know_ where I am to end up, don't I Sebastian?"

That smirk again, "Hm. I suppose you do."


	2. Victorian Strapon WTF!

**Victorian Strap-on WTF**  
_Info: Pure crack that I blame entirely on the Grell FC at black butler dot net. We were talking about Grell being uke to everyone, including Madame Red. Victorian strap-on WTF!  
Genre: Humor, Crack  
Characters: Madame RedxGrell  
Rating: PG13~R-ish? Suggestive, but not too graphic.  
Summary: Madame Red, being a resourceful women, comes up with the solution to her and Grell's problems in the bedroom._

* * *

Grell was moping _again_. Just sitting on the bed, with a beautiful woman walking toward him, looking completely and utterly miserable. This was getting rather ridiculous really. Their current dilemma had been building for quite sometime, but only recently had it escalated to this state. No, that had all started the day he first laid eyes on Ciel's butler, Sebastian.

Ever since Grell and the Madame's relationship had become intimate, something hadn't been quite right. It was after the first killing they had done together. They were both slick with blood, panting as the adrenaline subsided. Angelina looked up to her partner in crime and was nearly ill at the sight. It wasn't the blood and bits of gore covering the man that caused this reaction, it was his _eyes_, his _smile_. Grell positively radiated enjoyment, clearly reveling in the slaughter he had just helped perpetrate. What horrified the Madame the most however, was that she could feel that same feral grin on her face, see those wild bloodthirsty eyes reflected in his glasses. She didn't know what lead her to do it; panic, desperation, madness? All she knew was that the next second her lips were on his and she was kissing him as if she might find an escape from where she was, _who_ she was, in his crimson embrace. They coupled on that very floor, beside the still warm body of their victim. That first time had been fast and hard and bloody, just what both of them wanted.

In the following months of Grell's "employment" as Madame Red's butler, she had taken him to bed on several occasions. She didn't particularly care for the man romantically, he was simply a warm body, simply convenient. Her partner never argued, but always entered the arrangement with a kind of resignation, like he thought of her the same way, merely a passing entertainment. If that had been it, that would have been fine with Angelina, it was only fair really.

Only that _wasn't_ it. Grell barely even seemed to find her an _entertainment_! He was always able to finish the act, but he seemed almost… bored? This was altogether quite insulting! The Madame didn't fancy herself a loose woman, but she most certainly knew her way around the bedroom! No matter what she tried, nothing seemed to excite the man! She was about to just flat out ask him what was so wrong with her, when Ciel came to the townhouse that evening, his handsome butler in tow.

Her partner's eyes widened and stayed glued to the Phantomhive butler no matter where he went, a faint blush staining his cheeks. So that was it! Well that was one mystery solved, and one problem easily fixed! Some women would let a silly little thing like _anatomy_ get in the way if a problem of this nature arose, but Madame Red was after all, a doctor. And she knew just where to get the necessary supplies.

So here Angelina found herself, in her bedchambers with a less than enthusiastic lover. Looking up from disinterestedly examining his nails, the reaper sighed and moved toward her to begin the act, as was his role in this little charade. Not tonight however. Angelina put a hand to his chest and waggled a finger signaling him to wait. A red eyebrow rose in question, and but as the man's mouth opened to form a query, he was interrupted with…

"Tell me Grell, are you by chance a sodomite?"

The redheaded reaper's features suddenly gained more life and expression than she had ever seen in all the time they had been in bed together. Grell gasped for a moment before indignantly replying, "I am a _Lady_ thank you very much! Just, with a few… extra bits…" he trailed off awkwardly, blushing and picking at the sheets. He looked positively depressed at this point, but Angelina was about to turn that frown upside down.

"Don't worry darling! I understand _perfectly_ now! Here Grell, I got you a present that I think we'll both enjoy!" She then reached into a bag she had brought and pulled out the most peculiar item Grell had ever seen.

It consisted of a long and sturdy, but still somewhat flexible, shaft connected to what appeared to be a leather harness. Her bedmate looked puzzled at first, but as understanding as to what the device could be used for slowly dawned on his features, a huge shark tooth grin threatened to split his face.

"Ooo~ my! Is this what I think it is? Where on ea~rth did you get this?" His face was alive with curiosity, and a hint of arousal.

She stroked the shaft of her mysterious device (which was quickly becoming less mysterious the more she absently stroked it) while explaining how she acquired it. "This part…" _stroke_, "is made of rubber, a new material that should be perfect for our purposes…" _stroke_, "that I managed to acquire through my connections at the hospital…" _stroke_, "as for fashioning it into this devise…" _stroke_, "well, let's just say my nephew isn't the only one with questionable connections." She winked at the man now staring enraptured at her moving hand. "So, want to test it out?"

"Aaaa~ I kne~w there was a reason I fell for you Angelina da~rling!"


	3. Rain Coat

**Rain Coat**  
_Info: Another ficlet, this one's prompt had to have something to do with a rainy day.  
Genre: Humor... fluff?  
Characters: William and Grell (Grelliam if you want to see it that way) with a surprise cameo!  
Rating: G/PG?  
Summary: William is faced with a terrible choice._

* * *

As the last frames of the cinematic record flickered into darkness, William T. Spears sneezed. "Honestly, this weather is most inconvenient" the reaper sighed quietly to himself as he reached into his soaked suit jacket, only to find an equality soaked handkerchief. Sniffling quietly, William collected the soul who's record had just finished and continued on his way.

A storm had been gathering ominously for days, finally culminated in a torrential downpour drowning the streets of London. This tempest, coupled with the chill in the air signaling winter's approach, had created a rather substantial strain on the already understaffed and overworked Shinigami. Cheap side was rife with paupers and orphans finally succumbing to illness, malnutrition and hypothermia as they dropped into the gutters like so many drowned rats.

William wasn't meant to have been doing this massive assignment alone. Grell Sutcliff _had_ been helping (if his constant whining about rain and boredom could be counted as helping…), but at present he was grounded. Not only had Grell been more of a hindrance than a help thus far, but his superior had also heard rumors that the Earl of Phantomhive was near by, on his own nefarious business for the Queen no doubt, with his demon tethered close behind. William had wisely chosen to conceal this rumor from his subordinate.

Knowing a potential disaster when he saw one, William had banished the redheaded nuisance hours ago to their impromptu headquarters in a cheap side lodging house, ordering him to guard the souls they had thus far collected and complete the mission report while William finished the task.

Shivering as a gust of wind shoved at his drenched body, William decided to check in on his wayward teammate. The last soul he was slated to collect was on the opposite side of town, so the flat was on the way. He would make sure Grell A) was still there, and B) had completed that report. William's return had absolutely nothing to do with the warm fire burning in the room's hearth. Nothing at all.

"AaaCHOOO!" _Honestly._

X~X~X~X~X

Upon hearing the door open, the redhead jumped up from his position lying on the rug in front of the fire, where he had been doing his paperwork instead of the perfectly good desk in the corner, and immediately launched into a well rehearsed whine as soon as William walked through the threshold.

"Wi~ll! What is taking you soooo~ long? This is so bo~ring! Please just let me switch places with you, or come with yo~u! I'll be gooo~d I pro…" Grell paused mid-sentence as he seemed to finally register the fact that his boss was creating a rather substantial puddle on the floor. "Good Lo~rd Will! You're completely soaked! Poo~r dear! Let's get those wet clothes off you!" The redhead reached for the other man's coat, only to have his hand swatted away.

"Never mind about me Sutcliff, I only came to inform you that we will be returning after I have retrieved this last soul. Have you finished the report yet?" William looked sternly at his subordinate, in hopes of deterring any further attempts to disrobe him. The effect was somewhat ruined when he sneezed again.

"Aaaa! See~ Will, you'll catch your death if you don't get those off!" Grell pouted as he was once again pushed away.

"You know very well that is impossible! Stop trying to change the subject and show me that report Sutcliff!"

Looking a little hesitant, the redhead picked up the paper and held it up to his boss's scrutiny. He had barely completely one forth of the form and… good Lord… were those _hearts_ dotting the i's? Rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration, William sighed heavily and addressed his colleague. "Honestly Sutcliff, the assignment I gave you was not complicated. I expect that report to be completed by the time I return or you'll be doing a week's worth of overtime. Is that understood?" the reaper finished off in a firm voice. His small shivers and teeth chattering together made him seem less imposing however, and made up Grell's mind once and for all.

Giving him a wide manic grin that William didn't like in the least, Grell gripped his wrist tightly and said in a low voice, "O~h I'll do the report Will, but first, I know just the thing to warm you up, and I _won't_ take no for an answer!"

William's eyes widened as Grell pounced.

"Gah! Sutcliff what is the meaning… don't you dar… Ug… stop it… GRELL!"

Not having time to summon his deathscythe, the dark haired reaper only had his fists to defend against the redhead's assault. After a brief but vigorous scuffle, Grell was thrown across the room with a bloody lip and a… satisfied smirk? William belatedly noticed with horror that Grell was missing his shirt!

Checking himself quickly, William was relieved that he was still clothed… but wait… he was only wearing his dress shirt! William saw now that the redhead had managed to wrestle his jacket and vest off him. Wait… he also noticed his dripping shirt lying on the ground, rainwater soaking into the rug. With dawning dread, William felt that the shirt he now wore was indeed dry, and a tad bit tighter than normal. Grell had somehow managed to outfit him in his shirt!

Wondering to himself how the hell Sutcliff had gotten so adapt at buttoning and unbuttoning other men's shirts at such high speeds, he shuddered at the images his mind conjured up as to where the redhead could have gotten so much practice. Glaring bloody murder at the victoriously smiling redhead, William saw that Grell had picked himself up from being hurled against the wall and was fearlessly walking toward him. William froze in disbelief as the redhead actually unbuttoned and re-buttoned the top three buttons of the shirt, as William now realized one had been left out, causing the front to wrinkle awkwardly.

"Missed one" Grell purred as he smoothed out the front of William's borrowed shirt.

Blushing despite himself, William pushed the other man away and backed toward the fire, trying to deny to himself how good it felt to be in warm dry clothing. "Sutcliff… I… that was… you can't just…" William sputtered most unprofessionally.

Grell paid his boss little mind as he collected his dry vest, which had been thrown about in the scuffle. He held it out to William with a raised eyebrow, daring him to turn down his offer.

William's soul was in turmoil. There was so many things Grell had just done that were completely inappropriate. His mind raced with procedures and codes, racking up the redhead's infractions. However… with warmth finally seeping back into his frame, an added layer of dry clothing did sound tempting…

Making a snap decision and hoping he wouldn't regret it, William snatched the vest from Grell's outstretched hand and hastily fastened it shut. "This is only because I have to go back out again… and don't think you won't be written up for your behavior just now… but… thank you." He muttered, the last two words barely above a whisper.

Grell smiled in triumph as William accepted his offer and turned to leave. Stopping him with a hand on his arm, the redhead waggled a finger and held up arguably the most important article of clothing when one goes out to face the elements. "Aren't you forgetting something Wi~ll?"

All the color drained from William's face as he saw what the other man held. _Surely_ he couldn't be serious. "Thank you Sutcliff but this will suffice. Please unhand me at once."

"Nonsense Will! You'll be soaked again in seconds if you don't wear it!" the redhead exclaimed, pouting pathetically.

William knew of course that Grell was right. The thin shirt and vest would do little against the pouring rain… but to wear _that_?

Sensing William was considering the notion, Grell pressed on. "Come on Wi~ll! Don't be so stubborn! It's not like anyone will see~ you! And you'll be able to work more _efficiently_ if you're not drenched and freezing."

Grell knew his weakness well. He had said he magic word. Efficiently. William had to admit that it was true. He could move around much more quickly, and thereby finish the mission faster, were he not shivering and sneezing every five seconds. Sighing in defeat, William took the article of clothing and quickly put it on, scowling at the Grell all the while.

Smiling broadly now, Grell released William's arm and waved cheerfully at his boss's hastily retreating back. "It looks lo~vey on you darling! Red definitely suits you!"

Blushing despite his best efforts not to, William stormed out of the cozy flat, long crimson coat tails and ridiculous black bow billowing behind him.

BONUS:

Approximately 27 minutes later, and decidedly warmer than he had been while collecting the previous soul, William had just finished stowing away the last record for the evening, thankful to finally go home and get out of this ridiculous getup.

"Hmmm? What have we here? My my Mr. Spears, I must say, I had never imagined that distasteful colleague of yours would rub off on you so much." said a silky voice, his smirk so prominent it was audible.

William stiffened immediately. He knew that voice. It figured that he would run into that despicable creature tonight of all nights. Grinding his teeth and readying himself for a confrontation with the demon, William knew one thing for certain. Grell was getting overtime for a _month_!


	4. Oranges and Lemons

**Oranges and Lemons**  
_Info: I was just messing around with writing something incorporating the creepy as hell British nursery rhyme "Oranges and Lemons", and came up with... this. O_o Very dark. Character death(s).  
Genre: Horror  
Characters: __Sebastian POV. Ciel, Elizabeth, Phantomhive servants_  
Rating: R  
Summary: _Sebastian has grown tired of waiting, and moves to speed the game along_

* * *

Finny's cheerful laughter nearly drowns out the sound of the river we now find ourselves beside. It seems as though Bardroy has once again chosen to grace us with one of his many talents. Today it appears to be balancing a spoon on his nose. If Finny's joyful exclamation and Mey Rin's excited clapping are any indication, this is quite a feat. Tanaka and Snake seem to at least have the good sense to _quietly_ enjoy their fellow's stupidity.

You are once again ignoring your servants' revelry, too absorbed in whatever runs through that head of yours. I suspect your thoughts at present involve how best to escape your new wife's constant chatter without offending her too greatly. The Mistress of the house has once again decided that a picnic would be the perfect activity on this fine Spring day.

Sunshine… laughter… picnics… her. That is what fills your days now Master.

It has taken me quite some getting used to, dropping the familiar modifier, but you are no longer a child. Eight years in your service and you are a man of society, newly married, and well respected by your peers. One would hardly believe you were that same broken little thing looking up at me from an altar of blood.

"Sebastian, Elizabeth would like a refreshment."

"Right away Master." Of course she does, and your only concern is that her thirst is quenched, or her boredom is relieved, or your business partners are amused, or your factory is in order. It seems as though you have lost sight of something _important_ Master.

In all my years of faithful service, I have noticed something rather peculiar. The more of your enemies I strike down, the less eager you seem to be to punish those remaining. One would think, with victory so close at hand, one wouldn't dawdle to move into checkmate. Of course I know why. You have clearly been… _preoccupied_. As a young man, you have begun to find Miss Elizabeth's company more bearable, and of course the business world you seemed so bored with previously has suddenly become more interesting with age and wisdom. Understandable that one might forget a few _debts_ here and there.

I have not forgotten. I know you haven't truly forgotten either, if the way you continue to distance yourself from me is any indication. It puts me in mind of the children's game. With each fallen player, the gantlet you must run becomes longer. As the song nears it's end, you have to race faster and faster to avoid the arch falling upon your head. Your legs never _were_ very strong, were they Master? Perhaps you have been just fast enough 'til now, but what if I felled more players, and made that tunnel longer? How would you fair then?

_"Oranges and lemons" say the Bells of St. Clement's_

"Master, I believe you have a meeting this afternoon. Perhaps we should retire to the manor to prepare? If it pleases the Mistress of course."

"Oh, I suppose Sebastian is right. Let's go home Ciel! We don't want to keep our guest waiting!" the girl chirps. You agree and begin to head up the hill towards the house.

"Bard, Mey Rin, Finny, Snake, escort the Master and Mistress back to the manor and carry the supplies. I will see to Tanaka." In his old age, the steward is hardly more than a piece of furniture at this point, and needs assistance to move about. No one will notice his absence in time.

_"You owe me five farthings" say the Bells of St. Martin's_

As the assembly crests the hill I turn toward the unassuming old man. From the look in his eyes, I believe that he knows more than he lets on about why I have remained behind, has perhaps always known it would end this way. Out of respect for his years of capable service, I make it brief. A quick snap and it is done. I slide his body off the bank and into the gently moving current.

_"When will you pay me?" say the Bells of Old Bailey_

After the Master is prepared for his meeting and Miss Elizabeth has had her whims attended to, I see to it that the rest of the servants are doing something mildly constructive. They are fumbling their way through setting the table for dinner. Finny is absent, out in the gardens no doubt. Perfect.

I come upon him trying to feed a small bird. It seems too scared to take the young man up on his charity, but he keeps trying to coax it down. Looking around for something suitable to bring down the unusually strong gardener, I spy an old rusted pair of hedge clippers, Finny's favorite pair. He doesn't even flinch as I walk up behind him, either too intent on making his new feathered friend, or sure that kind mister Sebastian would never do him harm. Either way, he is dead before he hits the ground, the shears pierced cleanly though his heart.

_"When I grow rich" say the Bells of Shoreditch_

Dinner is uneventful. Mey Rin once again spilled some wine and broke two salad plates, but that could be considered an improvement on most nights. As the meal ends and the Master and Mistress retire for the evening, I send Mey Rin to see to Miss Elizabeth, and Snake to attend to the Master. I must have a word with Bard about this evening's meal.

I find him in the kitchen, washing dishes while cheerfully humming around his ever present cigarette. Deciding I'd rather not waste my time with getting too creative, I simply grab a butcher knife from the cutting board and stab him through the neck. It brings the desired result of silencing his screams, but it does make an awful mess of my suit. Pity. While he wordlessly grasps at his mangled throat, his eyes screaming of my betrayal, I toss him into the large oven and close the door. A fitting end for our "chef" indeed.

_"When will that be?" say the Bells of Stepney_

After the Master and Mistress are snuggly in bed, Mey Rin predictably sets about getting really for sleep herself. Since she doesn't share a room with the other servants, I can afford to wait for her. My attention turns to Snake. He seems confused, and perhaps even suspicious at Tanaka's absence in the men's sleeping quarters. He was always a bit more clever than the rest, in his quiet way, always observing. His snakes seem to be picking up on their master's distress, seeming to come out of the woodwork to protect him. It does not help. In an instant his slithering minions lie broken at my feet, my hand clenched tightly around the footman's neck. With the loud clang of his skull hitting the metal bedpost, Snake stirs no more.

_"I do not know" say the Great Bells of Bow_

The maid will be the easiest, so I can take the time to enjoy it. As I enter her bedchamber, she turns to me and stammers some nonsense about not being descent in front of a gentleman. I can feel the warmth of her blush from across the room. I smile charmingly and brush my fingers across her cheek. Before she can help herself she has opened the covers and is inviting me in. Straddling her small frame, I run my gloved hands up her torso and over her face. She is shivering with excitement by this point. My caress finally rests upon the tender flesh of her neck, and her excited quivering turns to terrified quaking as I tighten my grip. She attempts to throw me off, but there is no chance for her, and she knows it. As I crush her fragile windpipe, I am glad she is free of those ridiculous glasses, so that I may truly appreciate the pain and fear in her eyes as I extinguish her life.

_"Here comes a Candle to light you to Bed"_

Straightening my tailcoat, I light a candelabra and make my way to the Master's quarters. Upon my reaching my destination, I see that the Mistress is asleep beside him. Perhaps tonight they tried again for an heir? Perhaps tonight they succeeded? No matter. Silently setting the candelabra down I extend my aura and let loose a fraction of my true nature. As the shadows wrap around me and the room chills, I approach little Miss Elizabeth's side and stab my hand into her breast, ripping out her heart before she can even scream. The screams are supplied by my Master.

_"Here comes a Chopper to Chop off your Head"_

"You brought this on yourself Master. You allowed far too many distractions to cloud your judgment. I have simply taken the liberty of… _removing_ them." He has vomited somewhere beside the bed by now. Charming. "Now, I do believe we have an order of business to attend to. An issue of an outstanding debt." My eyes glow crimson, the seal on my hand and his eye scorching us both. Despite the horror around him, I can see that he understands the situation fully. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he chokes out those words I have so long yearned for.

"Sebastian, this is an order…"

"_Chip chop chip chop - _

"Yes, my Lord."

_the Last Man's Dead."_


	5. Broken

**Broken**  
_Info: Challenge to write IC Valentine's Day fluff for WillxSeb XD __It isn't quite fluff, but it's the best I could do!__  
__Genre: Angst, Hurt/comfort__  
__Characters: SebastianxWilliam__  
__Rating: PG13? Gore and OC death, thinly veiled sexual references__  
__Summary: "No, broken toys must be mended, otherwise one must play gently with them, lest the plaything shatter beyond repair. Sebastian was not in the business of playing gently."_

* * *

_Date - Feburbary 14th, 1889_

It was supposed to have been an easy mission, a good chance for the new recruit to learn the proper procedure for the viewing and judgment of a cinematic record.

_Name - Elizabeth Pruitt, age 86_

She was to die peacefully in her favorite chair. It should have been _easy_.

_Time - 17:42_

It had all gone horribly wrong.

The demons had come out of nowhere, looking for a quick and easy meal no doubt, taking the reapers by surprise. One moment William had been explaining the finer points of judging a record, the next all Hell had broken loose. Before they knew what was happening, the demons had separated them. The kid held his own, he really did, but he was just too inexperienced.

William had been sloppy. Completely caught off guard, William was struck by a clawed hand, a long gash blossoming across his cheek. As he was pinned momentarily by the demon, William could only watch in horror as the young reaper thought he had defeated his enemy. "Ha! I got him senpai!" the young man crowed, thrilled at his first taste of real battle.

William knew better, tried to call out, tried to warn him of the crimson eyes that glowed behind him. It was over in a heartbeat. William's anguished cry drowned out the sound of the young reaper's last rattling breath as he collapsed to the ground, his entrails decorating the floorboards, face frozen in eternal shock.

His blood boiling, William threw the demon off him and quickly dispatched both of the disgusting hateful creatures, his body working with the cold efficiency of decades of battles with their retched kind. William panted as his adrenalin subsided, his rush of anger slowly crushed by overwhelming guilt. Turning his head, his eyes fell upon his young charge.

He had shown such promise, such potential, all of it snuffed out because of William. If only he had trained him better, if only he had been faster, if only he hadn't failed him. As he looked into the reaper's muted lifeless eyes, William could hear the young man's voice speaking cheerfully about how excited he was to go on a real mission with his senpai, how he wanted to be a great shinigami someday. A day that would never come now.

Those dead eyes haunted him. _Why senpai? You said it would be easy? You said it would be safe? Why did you let me die?_ William felt his knees give out as he fell to the floor, the weight of his guilt too much for him to bear. The young reaper's warm blood seeped into William's trouser legs, seeming to glue him to the spot, staring into those accusing eyes.

He hadn't even known this young man well. He clearly had looked up to William, and William had barely bothered to learn his name. Who were his friends at dispatch? Did he have any? Did he perhaps have a lover who would be waiting up for him, not knowing that he would never return this Valentine's Day? William didn't know. He hadn't cared. Hot tears of shame scorched his eyelids as he clenched his teeth and bowed his head.

XOXOXOX

Sebastian could smell the blood from miles away.

As he wandered the streets of London in a rare moment of freedom from the demands of his young master, Sebastian idly wondered what on earth had happened to cause such a strong scent of blood. Then he felt it. There was a shinigami near by. Sebastian smirked as he wondered if it were _his_ shinigami. Playing with his favorite toy was a much more entertaining way of whiling away his free time than wandering the gloomy London streets.

Sebastian quickly determined where the shinigami and the vast amount of blood were, and quietly slipped inside the old dilapidated house. At his feet lay the remains of a demon. It was a lowly weakling, barely worth his notice. Sebastian stepped over the creature and turned the corner into a spacious sitting room. There his eyes met with the source of all that blood.

It seemed as though a foolish reaper had allowed himself to be defeated by that pathetic creature. Sebastian nearly laughed at what a demon such as himself could have done to him. It certainly would have been more painful, and yet more… elegant. The way his entrails were strewn across the floor was really quite vulgar. What caught the demon's attention even more than the mutilated reaper, was the man that knelt beside the body, shaking and pale as a ghost. William.

As Sebastian approached the scene, he could tell that William was in shock, the soft clunk of the demon's shoes on the creaking floor going completely unnoticed. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the body of a second demon. Surely there were more throughout the house. Surely William hadn't been bested by these two _children_.

Yet here he was, broken and numb, staring at the corpse splattered across the ground. Sebastian felt his blood boil as his eyes glowed crimson for a split second. How _dare_ those weaklings touch his shinigami, reduce him to this pathetic state! William was his and his alone, to bend and break as he saw fit. If was rare to see the stoic man so weak, so vulnerable, and Sebastian was furious that another had brought his reaper to such a state. The shinigami was his favorite toy, and Sebastian did not appreciate others playing with his toys.

As Sebastian came to face his plaything, William snapping out of his haze and glaring up hatefully around his unshed tears, Sebastian was forcefully reminded of a cat. Once, outside the manor, Sebastian had stumbled upon a young tomcat that had come out on the wrong side of a fight, it's fur matted with blood and it's eyes wild with fear and pain. Such a pathetic sight he was, the poor creature shivering and hissing, feebly swiping a paw as the demon approached. Sebastian braved the tomcat's pitiful assault until the thing quickly wore itself out, it's tired little body collapsing on itself as it waited for death. As Sebastian gently stroked the bloodied fur, the demon was rewarded with a soft purr rumbling from within the creature's tiny chest.

That was William now, cornered and alone, his knuckles white from gripping his deathscythe so tightly. William would fight, they both knew that, just as they both knew that he would never have a chance should Sebastian truly want to end him. They both knew it would be all too easy to kill the shinigami in his shaken state, but Sebastian knew something even more shameful about the man kneeling before him. Just like that little tomcat… William too secretly yearned for the demon's warm caress.

Pulling a pristine glove off with his teeth and stowing it away, Sebastian slowly shifted to kneel down in front of the shaken reaper. William's deathscythe sped through the air to meet him. Deftly stopping it's momentum with a hand clamped firmly on William's wrist, Sebastian could feel the other man trebling with rage, pain… fear.

He supposed one couldn't blame him. William was no fool, was probably rightfully imagining himself as the eviscerated reaper beside him, his face a frozen mask of terror as Sebastian's glowing eyes mocked him, the blood still warm on his hands. Sebastian certainly couldn't deny such a vision someday coming to pass, but not today. William, _his_ William, was broken, and not by his own hand. There was no sense in destroying something broken. It seemed unsporting somehow. No, broken toys must be mended, otherwise one must play gently with them, lest the plaything shatter beyond repair. Sebastian was not in the business of playing gently.

As Sebastian slowly and carefully raised his hand toward William's bleeding face, the reaper caught his wrist in a shaky grip, his eyes widening marginally, warning him, _begging_ him not to come any closer. Sebastian merely smiled benignly and pressed on, winning against William's fatigued grip easily. Too easily._Purr for me_.

William's glare intensified as the demon's fingertips met his pale cheek, the reaper bristling at the contact. Sebastian smirked ever so slightly. What a stubborn tomcat the man was! However, Sebastian was a patient man, and he would yet coax a purr out of his prideful pet. As Sebastian softly cupped William's tense jaw, the thumb of his other hand rubbing soothing circles over the racing pulse on the reaper's wrist, the grip on the deathscythe slackened. William closed his eyes and let out a shuttering sigh, a single tear escaping the cage of his eyelashes and falling to mingle with the blood on his face.

_Purr for me…_

"Have you come to revel in my failure demon?" William ground out through clenched teeth, his voice quaking ever so slightly with grief and shame.

_...ah, there we are_. Sebastian's smirk intensified.

It would be all too easy now, a few soft caresses and empty words, and Sebastian would have this docile pussy in his lap, William arching into his petting and feasting the sweet cream the demon would so generously provide. Sebastian nearly groaned at the thought. But no. William was still broken, and needed mending before he could be broken anew.

Adopting a blank expression, Sebastian clinically studied the gash on his reaper's cheek. The cut was long but not terribly deep. William had come out of the battle nearly unscathed, the blunt of the damage sustained underneath the icy mask he wore. As William shivered and again stared transfixed at the lifeless body of the young reaper he had failed, the demon took careful notice. Sebastian would remember this crack, this chink in William's armor, and learn how to best exploit it. How best to pry at that mask until it bent and splintered, allowing the demon to slip under the reaper's skin to fill the void of the foolish man's own making.

For now though, Sebastian was happy to bide his time and play nursemaid to his fragile little reaper. As he ran his thumb along the gash, smearing blood and tears along William's pale flesh as the wound sealed shut, Sebastian felt as though he were an artist. William's ashen cheek providing the perfect inkstone and canvas, his blood the deepest shade of crimson paint. Sebastian felt a smirk tug at his lips as he felt the spirit of the human holiday overtake him.

With a quick swipe of his thumb, the demon painted on his pale canvas… a small heart in blood red ink … a demon's Valentine.

"Perhaps some other time William." Sebastian whispered his answer, his promise.

William's eyes were still fixated on the lifeless gaze of the dead reaper. As Sebastian's hand moved toward the corpse, William's grip on the deathscythe strengthened and the demon's wrist was clutched again, much tighter than before. William's eyes snapped up to meet the demon's, burning with hatred, promising Sebastian death should he touch or defile the reaper's body. Sebastian looked fearlessly back, his face blank and unreadable. Sebastian knew William would find the strength to defend his fallen comrade's body, even if he were too weak to defend himself. How utterly pointless.

Sebastian could just leave it at this, just slip away into the shadows, but there was an opportunity here. An opportunity to lure William even further into a security both of them knew to be false, but that the reaper so desperately wanted, _needed_ to be true.

Knowing it was a risk, but willing to take it in order to potentially reap greater rewards, Sebastian carefully took his hand off William's deathscythe, giving the reaper complete control of his weapon and leaving himself open and vulnerable to attack. He used his free hand to gently pry William's hand off his wrist, the demon's eyes locked on the shinigami's. Holding William in place with his gaze, the shinigami's deathscythe shaking in his grip, Sebastian's hand crept down to the dead reaper's face and gently closed those accusing eyes before bringing his hand back to his side once more.

Without a word Sebastian gracefully rose and straightened his tailcoat. Noticing William's blood still lingering on his thumb, Sebastian met William's eyes and licked the digit clean, his eyes fluttering closed in rapture as the coppery tang hit his tongue. Sebastian then put on his glove, tugging the edge to ensure it's snug fit, before placing his hand to his heart. The demon's eyes flickered to the slain reaper, then back to William's face. Inclining his head slightly, Sebastian spoke in a soft voice, "My condolences."

William simply stared, stunned at Sebastian for his surprising actions, and at himself for _allowing_ them. As the butler turned and walked away without sparing another glance, William's mind screamed to kill him. Sebastian was a demon, not to be trusted, no better than the monster that he couldn't protect his subordinate from. How many shinigami could Sebastian kill, _would_ he kill, if William continued to let him run free? His hand twitched on his deathscythe, his body unwilling to follow his brain's orders. He couldn't do it. Sebastian was so close, with his back turned, why couldn't he do it?

Remembering the warmth of the demon's fingertips on the cold flesh of his cheek, William was disgusted with himself as he knew the answer to that question. Memories surfaced without his consent… the words the creature whispered as he pressed against him… inside him, the feeling of the demon's hands… his tongue, ravaging his flesh as they committed their dark sinful deeds. Dropping his deathscythe with a clatter that echoed through the room, William whispered in a broken voice. "I hate you." _Thank you_. His broken mind whispered, hating himself most of all.

XOXOXOX

As Sebastian made his way through the streets, back to his master's side, he wondered how William's fellows would react when they saw the Valentine he had given his shinigami. He was certain the other man had been too numb to realize how he was marked. Would he be angry? Disgusted? Ashamed? Would he tell them who had marked him so? Would he swear revenge for such a mockery? Or, in his darkest hour, as he saw his shattered reflection, Sebastian's heart burning on his ghostly white cheek, would he long for him… long for Sebastian to chase away the nightmares of that haunting lifeless gaze William saw every time he closed his eyes… long for comfort in the arms of his demon?

Sebastian put a hand to his face as he grinned in rapture at the thought.


End file.
